[Verse 1: Yo Gotti]
They like God damn Gotti
Boy I Googled your net worth
All them chains on, I can tell that your neck hurt
You look good in them heels but I can tell that your feet hurt
So drop down on your knees baby gimme that neck work
Double-Cs oh you’re bad, ha
Oh you know you fine, ha
You blew a bag on your ass, ha
Quarter mill off that stove, huh
You off that dro, ha
Oh your momma ain’t raise no hoe, ha

[Hook: Yo Gotti]
She want a real nigga and you not one
I want a bad bitch and I got one [?]
Pay for it you gotta buy some
She 21 and I’m a savage I’mma try somethin’

[Chorus: Yo Gotti & French Montana]
If you gettin’ your own money, holla (oh yeah)
You got them bottles in your section, holla (oh yeah)
If your day ones with you, holla (oh yeah)
You ain’t tripping ’cause they hatin’ on you (choppas style)

[Hook: Yo Gotti]
She want a real nigga and you not one
I want a bad bitch and I got one
You gon’ pay for it you gon’ buy some
She 21 and I’m a savage I’mma try somethin’

[Verse 2: French Montana]
Montana
Choppa style, chop chop, choppa style
Choppa style, chop chop, choppa style
Choppa style, chop chop, choppa style
‘Rarri sittin’ low, smokin’ on the loud (skrt skrt)
[?] dropped the bags off find an Uber
Catch me with the models up in dyckman smokin’ hookah (haan)
I took her from a hooptie to a Benz, ha (haan)
From the projects to the crib with a fence, ha (haan)
She double-bag fuck me with her friends, ha (haan)
Then we jump right back to that bread, ha (haan)
Choppa style, ridin’ with a shotty
Two-fifty on my wrist
Tryin’ to soak all my body, ha

[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
If you gettin’ your own money, holla (Montana)
You got them bottles in your section, holla (oh yeah)
If your day ones with you, holla (oh yeah)
You ain’t tripping ’cause they hatin’ on ya (oh yeah)

[Hook: Yo Gotti]
She want a real nigga and you not one
I want a bad bitch and I got one
You gon’ pay for it you gon’ buy some
She 21 and I’m a savage I’mma try somethin’

[Verse 3: Yo Gotti]
The beat is classic, but so am I
I [?] out the plastic to get ’em high
She rolled a diesel now we’re drunk, there’s a DUI
Bitch, [?] kids, between you and I (you and I)
Pop pop that pussy for a rich nigga
Girl you too real for a bitch nigga
I seen you with your friend, I wanna get with you
Y’all look good together, bring your bitch with you
You get money (ha)
You a honey (ha)
Heard your homie got that loud shit
They call it [?], ooh
You make it rain (ha)
There’s a thunderstorm
Your real niggas with you, they your day ones (hey)

[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
If you gettin’ your own money, holla (Montana)
You got them bottles in your section, holla (oh yeah)
If your day ones with you, holla (oh yeah)
You ain’t tripping ’cause they hatin’ on ya (oh yeah)

[Hook: Yo Gotti]
She want a real nigga and you not one
I want a bad bitch and I got one
You gon’ pay for it you gon’ buy some
She 21 and I’m a savage I’mma try somethin’

[Intro: Yo Gotti & Nicki Minaj]
Aw, this the strip club anthem, nigga, what’s up?
Young Money
Yeah, me and Mike WiLL pull up to AOD back to back
Them AMG 63’s

[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
I tell all my hoes, “Rake it up
Break it down, bag it up”
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Rake it up, rake it up (rake it up, rake it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Rake it up, rake it up (rake it up, rake it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
I made love to a stripper (stripper) first I had to tip her
Fuck it up

[Drop: Yo Gotti]
Don’t need make-up
I tell all my hoes, fuck it up
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Rake it up, rake it up (rake it up, rake it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up
You a bitch
Don’t need make up
I tell all my hoes, fuck it up
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Rake it up, rake it up (rake it up, rake it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up

[Verse 2: Nicki Minaj]
Brought out the pink Lamborghini just to race with Chyna
Brought the Wraith to China just to race in China
Lil’ bad Trini bitch but she mixed with China
Real thick vagina, smuggle bricks to China (woo)
I tell all my niggas (yo) cut the check (cut the check)
Buss it down, turn your goofy down (down), pound
I’ma do splits on it, yes, splits on it (splits)
I’m a bad bitch, I’ma throw fits on it (fits)
I’ma bust it open, I’ma go stupid and be a ditz on it (ditz)
I don’t date honey (no) cookie on tsunami (oh)
All my niggas wife me once they get that good punani (oh)
I think he need a Bonnie, I might just let him find me
Never trust a big butt and a smile, word to Ronnie
Re-rep Queens like Supreme, ask Webb and Nitti
A-ask Bimmy and Joe, nigga, run me my dough
Wr-wrist game is freezin’ like it wait in the cold
Nickname is Nicki but my name ain’t Nicole (grrr)

[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
I tell all my hoes, “Rake it up
Break it down, bag it up”
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Rake it up, rake it up (rake it up, rake it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Rake it up, rake it up (rake it up, rake it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Back it up, back it up (back it up, back it up)
Well, I’m the dough boy, the one they talkin’ about
Fuck it up

[Drop: Yo Gotti]
Don’t need make-up
I tell all my hoes, fuck it up
Fuck it up
You a little bitty, bitty bitch, yah
Don’t need make-up
I tell all my hoes, fuck it up
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up (fuck it up, fuck it up)
Rake it up, rake it up (rake it up, rake it up)
Fuck it up, fuck it up, yah
You a little bitty, bitty bitch

[Chorus]
Baking soda on the counter
J’s at the door
I got bails in the attic
Money in the floor
Brown bag, back and forth like a grocery store
Plastic bags, in and out and that shit filled with dope
Baking soda on the counter
J’s at the door
I got bails in the attic
Money in the floor
Brown bag, back and forth like a grocery store
Plastic bags, back and forth and that shit filled with dope

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti]
Yo
Ain’t no credit when you shop with me
You want some credit, leave your car with me
I tell my bitch she gon’ go far with me
But she may have to take a charge for me
Baking soda in the ‘fridgerator
I got money, that shit come with haters
What you want, what you need
I got pounds, I got keys
I got Goyard, that’s a bag
Go hard for the bag
I got no heart, I’m heartless
For the bag, I’m retarded
Birkin bag with the crocodile
Yeah my bitch been around
I gave my bitch a real bag
I got faith she gon’ hold it down

[Chorus]
Baking soda on the counter
J’s at the door
I got bails in the attic
Money in the floor
Brown bag, back and forth like a grocery store
Plastic bags, in and out and that shit filled with dope
Baking soda on the counter
J’s at the door
I got bails in the attic
Money in the floor
Brown bag, back and forth like a grocery store
Plastic bags, back and forth and that shit filled with dope

[Verse 2: Yo Gotti]
Yo
Why the trap smell like onions
What’s that loud odor
I’ve been sackin’ brown bags like I work at Kroger
Not concerned with no payment nigga, what the total
I jumped out my Bentley coupe into a Toyota
Seatbelt, rental car trafficking
Blood on my diamonds, bitch I’m African
Quit puttin’ your bag on that ‘gram, boy that real life
You’ll have them feds and them robbers at you, real life
I put my money in the ground and molded
Put my trust in a nigga and he folded
Can’t believe that nigga took the stand and told
Fuck your bitch in the trap [?]

[Chorus]
Baking soda on the counter
J’s at the door
I got bails in the attic
Money in the floor
Brown bag, back and forth like a grocery store
Plastic bags, in and out and that shit filled with dope
Baking soda on the counter
J’s at the door
I got bails in the attic
Money in the floor
Brown bag, back and forth like a grocery store
Plastic bags, back and forth and that shit filled with dope

It’s so mothafuckin hot i catch a tan in this bitch
Like a mailman i’m poppin rubber bands in this bitch
We be on that hot shit so don’t get fanned in this bitch
Left the club with her but she came with her man in this bitch
I’m so mothafuckin high that i can’t stand in this bitch
You a mothafuckin lie you say i ran from some shit
Prolly run off on the plug, prolly run off with his drugs, nigga run up on me wrong so he ran into some slugs
And I’m prolly in the club if he ask is we some thugs
No security with me cause bitch we deep and we got guns
He was chasing me ain’t know i brought my sack into the club
Play with me and mine lotta niggas die in cold blood
When i hit the spot bet they lettin out that Red Rum
Run up in yo spot green beams on all our guns
She got expensive taste have my dick all on her gums
Boy they buildings vacant lots shit cause I’m from the slums
Fill a nigga up with this hot shit, bitch you better not run
Thought it was a fair fight he ain’t know i had my gun
Fucked her on the first night and she caught my first son
Are you the toughest nigga in the crowd? Then you the first one
Aye Lil Stewie these hoes starstruck they say i do some
You a broke nigga petty ass use a coupon
It’s just me and Yae pull up on yo j with 2 guns
We ain’t aimin at yo legs bitch we aimin at yo head bitch, i’m eatin good i’m fed bitch, that Tropicana shit red bitch, niggas in the house on that scared shit, you hidin under that bed bitch
Vacay with my AK with my feet all in that sand bitch
You know i’m on a walk up with a drum like i’m playin in a band bitch
I’m so mothafuckin high that i can’t see straight
These bitches see me 3-D and they press replay
I’m a shooter nigga i should be on EA
Choppa in the front seat that’s my new bae
You trippin boy you better tie yo shoelace
F&N pencil bullets don’t get erased
If my bitch get outta line she get replaced
I scratch you off the list yea I hit the backspace
And my bankrolls big like my fanbase
Forensics searchin but they still can’t find the shellcases
Bitch i ball like a cancer patient, I’m the shit boy i’m constipated, i hang around robbers and you can get yo shit confiscated, i’m on the phone with Ben Franklin money my conversation, I shoot ya chest and ya leg ya head ugly combination, they mad cause we made it they hatin use it for motivation, I live in the fast lane my life is a celebration
I just bought a brand new choppa a baby K
I run up in a nigga house broad day
I been at the finish line but yall late
The judge want me locked down behind them tall gates
Fuck these bitches i just want the money!
I was sellin snow & it was sunny!
I take my time and wrap em like a mummy!
No Hilfiger but i got my Tommy!
Yo time is runnin out cock my Glock and brung it out
They don’t come outside cause they hidin they ain’t comin out
This Big Mac with a lot of fries ain’t no runnin out
I’m so mothafuckin hot bitches see me and start fallin out
Gaaaang gang

[Verse 1: Ty Dolla $ign]
Ay, don’t creep on me
Ay, got my piece on me
Ay, and you know I’m crazy
Crazy of you
Out of my mind, ain’t no telling what I’d do
Girl, we both made that promise, I ain’t switching up
Stay solid even when I got my money up
Remember when you f*cked me in the beamer truck
I was running out of gas, only asked you once
Always came up on the wheels, never on the bus
Always did her own sh*t for her, what everybody does
We was geeking off the Molly at the festival
Now I’m in the booty club, throwin’ all the ones

[Post-Chorus: Future]
Can’t sip my lean if you gon’ go to sleep
Don’t you sip my lean, don’t you sleep on me
Don’t you sleep on me, Hermes all on me
Don’t you sleep on me, I pass you up in the big old V

[Verse 2: Future]
I just went out with some ooh, ooh
She hit me up with some new juice
Champagne at the photoshoot
Celebratin’ on curfew
Straight shots, never curve you
She’s 6’3″ when you swerve through
Droppin’ points on you [?]
Grateful tatted on my arm
Jelous bitches be despising me
What does f*ck they from?
Who hidin’?
Fuck them niggas, check the iTunes
Turned they goons all to my goons
No sleep gang [?]
Only pain we recognize is pills (pills)
Xans, xans, got you dosing off
NoDoz, Hublots, got you showing off
Xans, xans, got you dosing off
Pendants, bracelets, diamond chains, got you going off

[Bridge: Future]
We make love the first time we see
We make love and not wise with the sneak
We make love the first time we see
We make love and not wise with the sneak

[Post-Chorus: Future]
Can’t sip my lean if you gon’ go to sleep
Don’t you sip my lean, don’t you sleep on me
Don’t you sleep on me, Hermes all on me
Don’t you sleep on me, I pass you up in the big old V

[Verse 3: 24hrs]
She play Twenty in the hills when she lonely
She said, “Twenty, do you want to f*ck my homie?”
All my bitches bad, and they ain’t got no stomach
Gucci jacket, cost me 54 hunnid
Aye, Twenty, tell Dolla, I f*ck with him
You workin’, I seen you, I’m next, you hear
Don’t sleep on me, that’s my only fear
She said, “Twenty, boy, this your year”

[Post-Chorus: Future]
Can’t sip my lean if you gon’ go to sleep
Don’t you sip my lean, don’t you sleep on me
Don’t you sleep on me, Hermes all on me
Don’t you sleep on me, I pass you up in the big old V

[Outro: Ty Dolla $ign]
You know I’m crazy
Crazy for you
Out my mind
Ain’t no telling what I’ll do
You know I’m crazy
Crazy for you
Out my mind
Ain’t no telling what I’ll do